Above the Clouds of Pompeii
by Sunshine-and-Moonbeams
Summary: Songfic: Sam is like 9/10 and Dean is like 13/14. In a rare moment of weakness, Sam finds Dean crying. Dean usually sings to Sam, but then again, Sam's usually the one crying. So he decides to sing to Dean. Song: Above the Clouds of Pompeii by Bear's Den


Summary:

Sam is like 9/10 and Dean is like 13/14.

In a rare moment of weakness, Sam finds Dean crying. Dean usually sings to Sam, but then again, Sam's usually the one crying. So he decides to sing to Dean.

Song: Above the Clouds of Pompeii by Bear's Den

* * *

"Dean?" His voice sounded soft and scared, even to his own ears. "Dean, where are you?" Sam whispered into the darkness of the motel room. He'd had another nightmare. Where was Dean? He needed Dean. Dean would make him feel better, just like he always did. Dean knew exactly what to say, especially when he was sad or scared, and he was always there to protect him and to comfort him.

He heard a muffled sound from the corner of the room. Sam froze, listening carefully. There, he heard it again. It sounded like... a sniffle? Was someone crying? He reached for the bedside lamp.

Dim light flooded the small room, leaving San blinking at the sudden change. He peered into the corner where the noise was coming from.

It was Dean. He was sitting with his back to the corner, knees drawn up to his chest, arms hugging his legs tightly. His forehead rested on the tops of his knees. Another muffled sniffle came from him. Sam crawled off the bed, dragging the blanket with him. He quietly made his way over to Dean's corner and sat on the floor beside his brother. He curled up against Dean, pulling his blanket around them both.

Dean lifted his head up from where it rested in his arms. His eyes were red and puffy. He managed a half smile.

"Hey Sammy, what are you doing up?" His voice was hoarse and a bit shaky from crying. Sam was confused; Dean never cried.

"I had another bad dream," Sam whispered softly. "I was hoping you would sing to me again." Sam loved it when Dean sang. His voice was rough, and often cracked in all the wrong places, but Sam thought it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. Dean always seemed so happy when he sang, especially when he sang "Hey, Jude," a song their mother used to sing to Dean as a lullaby. It's the song he always sings to Sam when he's scared or upset.

Dean slung his arm around Sam's shoulders, half hugging him. He took a deep breath. "I, I don't know if I can right now, Sammy." His voice still shook a little.

They sat there quietly, both just taking comfort in the other's presence. After a few moments, Sam piped up.

"I'll sing to you this time, okay Dean?"

Dean looked down at his brother in surprise. "You want to sing to me, Sammy?"

He paused, his face scrunched up in thought before he nodded. "But I'm not going to sing 'Hey, Jude,'" he said with a small frown. "That's your song."

Dean gives him another half smile. "Alright baby bro, what are you going to sing me then?"

After a moment of thought, Sam begins to sing softly. His voice is soft and sweet, carrying the gentle melody perfectly.

 _We built our home out on the slopes_

 _Pompeii beneath, she lay above  
How she haunted our home  
How she haunted our home_

Dean tilted his head to one side as he regarded Sam curiously. "I don't think I've ever heard this song, Sammy."

 _You were a god in my eyes  
Above the clouds, above the skies  
You were a god in my eyes  
You were a god  
_

Sam paused, taking a second to smile up at Dean. Dean _was_ a god to him, a protector, a role model, someone he could always look up to.

 _You took me walking through the town  
Showed me the statues underground  
Said just don't they look in peace  
Sometimes I wish that was me_

 _I was the son you always had_  
 _Tugging at your coat when you were sad_  
 _I was the son you always had_  
 _I was the son you always had_

Dean was more of a father to him than their actual father ever was. Sometimes he forgot he was Dean's younger brother, because he often felt like he was his son. Sometimes he wondered if Dean forgot too. Dean would give up anything for Sam, and he knew it.

 _Don't cry  
Hold your head up high  
She would want you to  
She would want you to_

Dean's eyes widened, then filled with tears. He moved the arm that wasn't around Sam, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, muffling the sob that tried to escape.

 _Please, just don't cry  
Hold your head up high  
She would want you to  
She would want you to_

Sam snuggled in closer to Dean. Dean was shaking slightly.

 _You said stay in the car and wait  
There's just some things I have to say  
Don't you know I miss her, too  
I miss her just as much as you_

Sam didn't remember their mom very well, but he did miss her. He ached, knowing that he had missed out on the chance to know her. He knew she loved him, and that made him miss her even more.

 _So my father and my son  
As you end what she's begun  
You'll lie patient by her side  
With roses red come lilies white_

 _I was too young to understand_  
 _The flowers slipping from your hands_  
 _I was too young to understand_  
 _I was too young to understand_

Sam had been too young when she died. He didn't understand what was going on. He didn't realize his mother was gone, lost to him forever. Didn't understand that she was never coming back. Didn't understand that he would never get to know her.

 _I was too young to understand  
The flowers sleeping in her hands  
I was too young to understand  
I was too young to understand_

He did remember flowers. Flowers on the memorial. At the time, he didn't understand why they left flowers. The dead didn't have a use for them anyway. But now he understood that the flowers were more for the living. It made them feel like they were doing _something_ , and gave them a physical representation of the grief and pain they felt over losing someone dear to them.

 _Don't cry  
Hold your head up high  
She would want you to  
She would want you to  
_

Whenever Sam was crying and missing their mother, Dean would tell him it was okay to cry, to let all your pain and anger and grief come, to feel it and let it out. But after a while, you have to pick yourself back up and keep going. Their mother was kind and cheerful. She would want them to have fond memories of her, not drown in their grief.

 _Please, just don't cry  
Hold your head up high  
She would want you to  
She would want you to_

Dean's sobs had slowed and gradually stopped. He sniffed, using the corner of his shirt sleeve to dry his eyes. He gently squeezed Sam's shoulders.

 _And just don't cry  
Hold your head up high  
She would want you to  
She would want you to_

 _Please, just don't cry  
Hold your head up high  
She would want you to  
She would want you to_

Long after Sam sang the last note, they continued to sit there, holding each other, comforting each other. After a few long moments, Sam looked up at Dean.

"Hey Dean, now can you sing to me?"

A laugh bubbled up in Dean's chest. He smiled, a real smile this time. "Sure, Sammy."


End file.
